


Wish Upon You

by Fa_Untitled



Series: BokuAka Assassin AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adult BokuAka, Akaashi my poor baby, Alternate Universe, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and kuroo is a total sweetheart, because i dont want my babies to suffer, but not so angst, kenma is a cat, no one knows the real Bokuto, this is angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fa_Untitled/pseuds/Fa_Untitled
Summary: Bokuto is an assassin worked for "The Agency". His time in Fukurodani was an undercover mission to kill a CIA agent who disguised as a teacher. When he was graduated, he told his friends he got scholarship oversea so his team would bid him goodbye at the airport. It was a ploy to make a perfect alibi and use his team as his fake witnesses, because Bokuto never gotten into the plane, he went back to finish his mission.After Bokuto left, Akaashi and Kuroo tried to contact Bokuto but It was like the man was simply disappeared. But even after 7 years, Akaashi never stopped thingking about him.Until one day Bokuto suddenly appeared once again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a temporary title because i haven't finished the story. I might or might not change it.

Bokuto closed his eyes as he listened to the white noises around him. Rushes footsteps. Buzzing conversations. Dragged wheeled luggage.

Airport is a place where you can find almost all emotions, like the anxious feeling in your gut when you were about to go to foreign place for the first time but also excited for the awaiting journey, the agitated and hopeful feeling as you waited for the loved one to come home, the anguish and determination to prove that leaving was the right choices, the warm adoration as you imagined a lovely vacation with your significant other, or the crushing sorrow in your heart as you said goodbye to that someone you loved so dearly you felt like you left a part of your soul behind. Worse was when you realized you would never see them again.

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto opened his eyes and looked up. Akaashi stood in front of him. Tall and graceful, with steady sharp, green eyes that took Bokuto’s breath away, every time without a fail, even after two years they’d known each other. Bokuto smiled fondly, noting the tired lines around those eyes and a slight frown of his eyebrows. By now, he could tell even the slightest glimpse of the other boy emotion behind the ever-present poker face. The little furrow on the corner of his eyebrows when he’s trying to figure something out, the taut line of his jaw when he’s upset, the faint tinge of red hidden behind his ears and the back of his neck when he’s flustered or embarrassed. Bokuto yearned to see more of those, to hear more of Akaashi’s genuine thought among the sarcastic remarks and dry humors.

It terrified him, as he realized, how he would trade _anything_ just so he could stay for a little longer. Be with him just a bit more. He wished, as he gazed into Akaashi’s eyes, he could change who he really was.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi’s furrows deepened, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto cleared his throat, “I’m fine ‘Kaashi.”

“C’mon, the others are waiting.”

‘The others’ were Fukurodani volleyball regular members and their managers. They had thrown a farewell party the day before with all Fukurodani volleyball team members and some of Bokuto’s classmates and friends, so now the regular members were just the representative to bid him goodbye at the airport.

Oh, and there were Kuroo and Kenma as well, just because.

Kuroo waved as Bokuto and Akaashi approached them. The Cheshire cat grin plastered on his face. “Thought I missed seeing you off, dude.”

“Won’t dare dream of it, bro.” Bokuto hugged him and patted his back.

Kuroo retaliated by smacking his back harder. Bokuto smacked him back even harder. And it turned into a full back-smack competition with them still hugging. Some people who passed by stared at them with confused expression, some snickered, and most just pretended they didn’t see it, much like the other Fukurodani members. Konoha groaned. Bokuto could hear Akaashi sighing behind him and Kenma muttering _idiots_ under his breath.

“So,” Bokuto exclaimed when he finally disentangled himself from Kuroo, “before I go, is there anything you guys want to tell me? Some sentimental goodbye speeches for your awesome and beloved former captain?”

Shirofuku, their manager, said, “Bokuto.”

Bokuto turned to her, eyes expectant.

“You never give me back the money I lent you.”

“Ahh,” he grimaced. “How about I’ll send you pictures of every hot foreign guys I’ll meet later? Blond? Blue eyes? I’ll introduce them to you.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“How about I bash your head until your brain can finally start working properly?” she scowled. “Honestly, how did you even got scholarship overseas is beyond me.”

“Well, you can send the pictures for me,” Komi shrugged. At the blank look of his friends, he added quickly, “not of guys! I want pictures of hot girls!”

When the others were bickering about girls (“Japanese or American?” “I prefer Asian girls, they are small and easy to hug” “What do you know? The only woman you’ve ever hug is your mom” “HEY! I hugged my grandma too!”) Kenma tugged Bokuto’s sleeve.

“Shoyo says goodbye.” He thrust his phone screen towards Bokuto’s face. Good luck wishes and many emojis sprinkled all over it. And there was picture of Karasuno volleyball team members grinning at him, some thumbing up, some pointing gun fingers, some doing peace sign, some waving, and Tsukki at the back... just standing. Ahh, the loveliest, most expressive child of Karasuno. Bless his soul.

“Bo, it’s time,” Kuroo called.

Bokuto checked his watch then gathered his team into group hug. He patted their shoulders and told them how much he would miss them. And he realized he really meant it. _He would miss them_.

He fist bumped Kuroo and ruffled Kenma’s hair (“Did you juST HISS???” Kuroo guffawed “Bite him, Kenma”).

Then he turned to Akaashi.

He was staring at him. Green eyes locked into Bokuto’s golden ones. Bokuto loved those eyes. Eyes that had looked down at him softly as he laid his head on the younger boy’s lap. Eyes that had looked at him exasperatedly when he did something stupid. Eyes that had looked at him with disappointed frown when he said he gave up _. I believe in you, Bokuto-san, you are more than this, you can do it_. Eyes that had looked at him with warm contentment. _I’m so proud of you, Koutaro._ Eyes that he had kissed so lightly as stream of tears flowing down from them that one time they watched Hachiko.

Bokuto stepped forward, getting rid of distance between them, and pulled Akaashi into his arms. He felt Akaashi’s hands wrapped around his waist, head rested on Bokuto’s shoulder. He was shaking slightly. Or maybe it was Bokuto.

Bokuto turned his head into Akaashi’s neck and breathed him in. As he closed his eyes, he could hear white noises around him. Rushes footsteps. Buzzing conversations. Dragged wheeled luggage. The world kept on going, no matter how many times he wished _–begged-_ it would just stop.

It terrified him how he would trade _anything_ so he could be with the boy in his arms for a bit longer. How he wished he could change who he really was.

But he knew he couldn’t.

And so, he had to let him go.

“It’s not a goodbye,” Akaashi whispered to his ear. 

Bokuto pushed him into an arm-length gently, reluctantly. He brushed his fingers on Akaashi’s cheek, down to his jaw and to his chin, mapping the lines and curves of his face.

“It’s not a goodbye,” Akaashi repeated. This time more quiet. Like something he was trying to convince to himself. “Say something,” Akaashi gazed upward, “Aren’t you supposed to be the loud one?”

 _I love you_. Bokuto thought. But he didn’t say it. He never said it. They never talked about their feelings. But then again, they never had to, because they both just knew.

Bokuto smiled at him sadly. Slowly, he cupped Akaashi’s cheeks and kissed his forehead.

“Goodbye Keiji.”

 

 

+++

 

 

 

Once he went through the checkpoint, Bokuto made a beeline to the restroom. He got into one of the empty stall and took his jacket and shirt off.

He rummaged his bag and pulled out a temporary black hairspray and a mirror. There was a giant mirror right across the stall but he couldn’t take a risk of someone might see him, so he brought his own.

He carefully sprayed the hairspray until all of his hair turned black. He doubled check the back of his head until he fully sure it was all cover.

Then he pulled out a dark navy polo shirt and black Aviator from his bag and put them on.

He extracted a small satchel from the inside of his bag. All of his ID, phone, and anything that could be traced back to him were already in the satchel.

The jacket, shirt, hairspray and the mirror was stuffed back into the bag. After he zipped it, He stashed it on the corner, not fully hidden so it would just look like someone forgot to take it.

His phone rang. Private number displayed on the screen. He picked it up.

“You ready?” came familiar voice from the other end.

“Yes,” Bokuto answered curtly.

“Target is in the nest. You got three hours to finish it.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck.”

“Hey,” Bokuto rasped, “if anything happen to me,” he inhaled slowly, “I want you to do one more thing.”

“Spill it.”

“Promise me you will protect him.”

“I will.”

Bokuto cut off the line. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying his heart. Then he slung the satchel across his chest and went out of the restroom.

He didn’t go to his gate though. He headed straight to the exit door.


	2. Chapter 2

“Here you go, one black coffee.”

“Thank you, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi took the steaming mug from Kuroo’s hand.

Kuroo slid onto the sofa across from Akaashi. He eyed the younger boy as he added sugar sachet into his coffee. “How do you even drink that thing? It’s blacker than my soul.”

The corner of Akaashi’s lips twitched slightly. “At least it’s sweeter.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo leered, “how’d you know that?”

“Usually I have high tolerance for bitterness, but I can’t tolerate being with you for more than necessary,” Akaashi retorted without missing a beat.

Kuroo snorted. “Smartass.”

For a moment, they fell into mutual silence as they both sipped their drinks. And it was not an uncomfortable one either. Despite the frequent banters and differences in their personalities, Kuroo actually enjoyed their time together. And it turned out that they have many things in common like music preferences and favorite movies.

It was Bokuto who introduced Akaashi to Kuroo. The boy had been so formal Kuroo had thought he was actually a sixty-year-old in disguise, a fine sixty-year-old with flawless skin, strong bone and pretty face. But hey, he had watched _Orphan_ so who knew.

At first Kuroo couldn’t understand why Bokuto favored the kid he practically dragged him everywhere. But when he saw it firsthand how Akaashi handled Bokuto’s mood swing and dealing with his most ridiculous whines, it became crystal clear. His teammates even called him ‘The Owl Tamer’.

And one more thing that intrigued Kuroo was despite his formal and polite attitude, once Akaashi opened his mouth he spoke fluent sarcasm.

The three of them used to hang out together even outside match practice (four, if Kuroo could drag Kenma along). But since Bokuto moved abroad to continue his study in America, they rarely see each other anymore. He was surprised when Akaashi suddenly asked him to meet up.

Speaking of which…

“So,” Kuroo began, “The reason wh-”

He was interrupted by squall of teenage girls clustered on the corner of the café, two tables away from them.

“I know right! It was really scary. Was it a murder?” the one with ponytail asked her friends.

“No,” the one with pixy haircut, chimed in. “My friend in Fukurodani said that it was suicide case.”

At the mention of Fukurodani, Kuroo and Akaashi glanced at them.

“Is it really that hard to be a teacher?” squeaked the girl with glasses. Her timid face looked concern.

“Maybe he got other problems outside his job,” the pixie girl said. She rubbed the timid girl’s shoulder. “You’ll do just fine, Amy.”

Kuroo frowned. “Are they talking about your teacher?”

Akaashi nodded. “Akihito sensei.”

“I think I remembered it on the news.” With the hectic schedule of his college and new part time job, Kuroo didn’t really pay much attention on what’s on the news.

“Yeah it was everywhere.” A pause, “but after three days it was just gone.”

“What do you mean gone?”

“It was literally everywhere. Newspaper, TV, Radio, Internet. But suddenly, they just stopped reporting it.”

“Maybe they thought it was no longer interesting? You know how news works.”

Akaashi shook his head. “More like someone deliberately erased it from the media.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shot upward. “Kid, I think you’ve watched too many conspiracy movies.”

Akaashi regarded him with narrow eyes.

“Okay,” Kuroo held up his hands, “so tell me about this mysterious teacher, was there anything wrong with him?”

“Not really,” Akaashi mused, “he was a chemistry teacher. I didn’t think he had any problem with the students, he was a good teacher. He was transferred to my school the same year I was accepted in Fukurodani. I didn’t really know him well enough, but I’m sure he didn’t look suicidal.”

“Well kid, who knows what’s on one’s mind.”

“Stop calling me ‘kid’, how old are you anyway?” Akaashi scowled.

Kuroo smirked. “So why did the police conclude it was a suicide case?” he asked instead.

“They found him hanged in his house.”

Kuroo frowned, “who found the body?”

“They didn’t say it on the news.”

“When was it?”

“The day Bokuto-san left.”

It was subtle, but Kuroo glimpsed a slight twitch on Akaashi’s fingers. The younger boy’s shoulders tensed. Kuroo gazed at him. Hard to tell through Akaashi's stoic face, but he could sense that Akaashi was restless once Bokuto’s name was said.

“Akaashi,” Kuroo steepled his fingers together, “why did you ask to meet me?”

Akaashi's eyes flicked away. His hand stirring his now cold black coffee. “Have you heard anything from Bokuto-san?”

“No,” a pause, “have you?”

“No,” Akaashi sighed. His shoulders drooped slowly.

Kuroo had never seen Akaashi so dejected, and it took him aback when there was a pang in his heart at the sight of Akaashi being so hopeless.

“But he did email me once.” Kuroo said finally.

Akaashi looked up, eyes wide. “Can I see it? Please?”

Kuroo pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket and opened the email app. He got the email a week ago. It was a brief message.

 

_Bro, I broke my phone. Been busy here. Ill call u when I got new one._

 

That was the only interaction he got from Bokuto since he left.

He handed his phone to Akaashi.

Akaashi read the email once. Then read it again. And again.

“I tried to email him back,” Kuroo said, “but he never replied.”

Akaashi’s face fell and Kuroo mentally kicked himself. “Why didn’t he email me?”

“Maybe he’s really busy there,” Kuroo suggested lamely. “You know how hard it is to settle down in new environment.”

“This is not like Bokuto-san.”

“Hey,” Kuroo touched Akaashi’s hand, “give him some time, he’ll contact you sooner or later.”

 

 

+++

 

 

 

Six months after that, there was only one more email Kuroo received since then. Different email address, but Bokuto attached his picture in it, a selfie of him in a dimly lit room. The wall behind him was yellowish dirty white, peeled off on some corners. There was a stainless steel table beside him, but nothing on it. Nothing to indicate exactly where he was.

Bokuto was wearing plain, rumple black shirt. His hair a bit longer and messily tousled like he just rolled out of bed. He did look tired. There were bags under his eyes and his cheekbones looked more prominent. But he smiled warmly to the camera.

The email was as brief as before:

 

_Srrsly busy here, but im fine. Pls tell akaashi i miss him._

 

Kuroo tried to message him back countless time. Each message was harsher than the last.

 

_Bo what have u been doing?_

 

_Dude, srrsly answer me!_

 

_Goddammit bokuto, if u rlly mean it tell akaashi yourself!_

 

_If u dont answer me, asshole, istg ill find ur ‘busy’ ass, kick the shit out of u, and drag u fucking home!_

 

_Bo, please answer me_

 

_Bokuto, I saw him cried. He really misses you. We really miss you._

 

All with no avail. Bokuto never messaged him back even once. In the end, Kuroo just gave up trying altogether.

And even though he hated it and how much he thought Bokuto didn’t deserve it, Kuroo let Akaashi kept the picture. Then he hated himself even more as he saw Akaashi’s heart crumbled over and over whenever the younger boy stared longingly at it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a reference from my other BokuAka fanfic [When It's Raining](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9249176)  
> it's a short fragment of when Bokuto was still in Fukurodani

_7 years later_

 

 

“Akaashi sensei? There’s a man looking for you.”

Akaashi looked up from piles of student evaluations on his desk and turned around. His eyes widen at the sight in front of him. “Now that is a face I haven’t seen in a long time,” he smiled slightly, “how are you Konoha-san?”

Konoha, leaning against the doorframe with arms folded on his chest, gave Akaashi a half smirk. “Never been better. How are you Akaashi ‘sensei’?”

Akaashi ignored the taunt, but his lips twitched with amusement. “What are you doing here?”

“I have business nearby and thought maybe I could give you a little visit,” Konoha cocked his head to the side, “lunch with me?”

“Depends. Are you paying for it?”

Konoha scoffed, “am I going to regret it if I say yes?”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Akaashi glanced at his wristwatch and stood up. He led Konoha out of the teacher room and into the hallway. It was packed with students milling around, lunch boxes and snacks clutched on their hands.

“It feels nostalgic being back here after all these years,” Konoha said.

Akaashi nodded, “It is.”

“Do you want to eat at the canteen?”

“Not really. The canteen is packed with students at this hour. It can be pretty brutal.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Konoha winced, “so where do you want to eat?”

“There’s a new ramen house nearby, maybe we could try it.”

“Alright then. Lead the way, Sensei.”

 

 

 

+++

 

 

 

The walked from the school to the ramen house was supposed to be less than ten minutes. But suddenly rain showered them with big droplets and harsh wind, forcing them to take shelter in front of a closed store.

“You know, this weather really makes me craving that hot ramen even more,” Konoha mused.

“You can go ahead,” Akaashi replied, “but I’m staying. I still have class later and I’m not planning to teach my students with drenched suit.”

“Would be amusing to watch though.” Konoha grinned.

For a while, they stood there waiting as rain dripped down from the awning like bead curtain made of water. The street was almost empty except for some cars drove past. Puddles were forming on some corners of the pavement, reflecting the cloudy gray sky. _Everything is gray_ , Akaashi thought, as he listened to the harsh sound of pattering rain.

“Do you remember how Bokuto used to run out of the gym every time it was raining? That good for nothing captain, he really was such a child,” Konoha smiled fondly, his eyes distant as he recalled their high school days. Then he stopped himself short and turned guiltily to Akaashi, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No, it’s alright, Konoha-san,” Akaashi cut him off, “it’s been awhile. It’s alright now.”

And it really was. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Bokuto. But Akaashi didn’t miss him the way he used to miss him anymore. He had stopped waiting for the phone call that never came and messages that had never been replied. He had no longer felt the sinking in his gut whenever his phone rang and the sound from the other side was not the one he wanted to hear. He had stopped counting the days as they went by, and the months and years followed.

Seven years was not a short time. And Akaashi had stopped missing Bokuto the way he used to miss him.

Yet strangely enough, he never stopped wishing for Bokuto to come home.

Akaashi had dated many people since Bokuto left, males and females. He didn’t really care as long as there was warm body against his skin, kisses trailing ghostly trace along his spine, and hands holding him down, taking his mind off even for just a little while.

The sex was always rough and ruthless, no time for slow touch and sweet caress, because he was afraid that if he let his consciousness wandered, in his eyes it was not his partner’s fingers stroking him or their lips brushing against his. And Akaashi would feel guilty for that.

Some of his exes said that he was too fixated on his past. Then years later, Akaashi was back to Fukurodani, albeit as a teacher. So maybe they were right. Maybe he really was too fixated on his past.

“I wonder why he really liked the rain,” Konoha mused loudly, waking Akaashi from his reverie.

“What?”

“Bokuto. I wonder why he really liked the rain, “Konoha repeated.

 _Does he really like the rain though?_ Kuroo’s voice from a long time ago resonated in Akaashi’s mind.

Akaashi held up his hand, catching droplets of rain on his palm. “Maybe he does,” he whispered. _Because that was the only time he could shed his mask off._

 

 

+++

 

 

 

It was already late at night when Akaashi reached his house. The jingling of his keys sounded too loud in the too quiet neighborhood. He jammed the key into the keyhole and twisted. Then he stopped cold. The hair on his nape prickled.

The door was already unlocked.

Did he forget to lock his door this morning? No, Akaashi was not a reckless person, and he was sure he had locked his door before he went to work.

He considered calling the police, but somehow decided against it.

Stealthily, he opened the door and went in. Nothing moved, but he could feel something was wrong. He picked up a ceramic vase from the vestibule and slowly, quietly, walked deeper into his house, back against the wall.

When he reached the kitchen, he caught motion of dark silhouette among the shadows from the corner of his eyes and he raised his vase. Whoever it was, Akaashi intended to bash their heads for breaking into his house.

But then he froze as he glimpsed flash of silver hair and a pair of golden eyes.

He gasped. “Bokuto-san?”

“Hi, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto smiled. He sat on one of Akaashi’s eating chairs. The street light went through the window, dimly lit his face.

“How did you get in?” Akaashi was too stunned he didn’t know what he should do. He didn’t even know if Bokuto was real.

“I picked the lock,” Bokuto shrugged wryly, “I’m sorry for breaking in.”

Akaashi gaped. “What?”

When Akaashi about to turn on the light, Bokuto said hastily, “don’t turn on the light.”

“Why?” Akaashi frowned. “Bokuto-san, is this some kind of a joke?”

“No. But umm…” Bokuto hesitated, “before you turn on the light, I just want to tell you one thing.”

Akaashi’s frown deepened, but he listened.

“Please don’t freak out.”

“Bokuto-san, the fact that you suddenly appeared in the dark corner of my kitchen after missing for seven years is already freaking me out.”

“Okay, uhh… I’m bleeding.”

“What?”

“It’s okay though, I’m not—”

His words cut off as Akaashi’s hand reached for the switch and turned on the light. His eyes widened when he finally could see Bokuto clearly. Bokuto’s left arm was hanging listlessly beside his body, the shirtsleeve coated in dark stain, and blood pooling on tiles below him.

Bokuto winced, he squinted at the sudden brightness, “Hi again… I guess? You’re still so pretty by the way.”

“You’re bleeding!” Akaashi cried out.

“Yeah, I told you,” he laughed nervously, “kinda inconvenience isn’t it?”

“We need to get you to the hospital now!”

“No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

Akaashi lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

“Hospital has to report every shot injury and I can’t let the police get involved in this. The agency could track me down from there.”

Akaashi stared at him incredulously. “You mean to tell me that’s a shot wound? How did you even get shot? Who shot you?” his voice rose in every word. “And what the hell is agency?”

“Akaashi, just relax okay? Calm down, it’s alright. I’ve already stopped the bleeding. It’s just a graze. I only need to rest for a while.” A pause. “And maybe some painkillers.”

“Oh God,” Akaashi muttered. He started pacing around his kitchen. The metallic stench of blood filled the air, making him queasy.

“Yeah, that’s why I warned you not to freak out,” Bokuto said dryly.

Akaashi’s face hardened. “Yes that’s very helpful of you, Bokuto-san, thank you very much.” He retorted sarcastically. “Okay…” he inhaled, “let’s clean your wound first, patch things up, then you can tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Alright,” Bokuto replied meekly.

Akaashi pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression pained. “God, I need my coffee.”

Bokuto looked up. “You still prefer black coffee right? I can make you one.”

“No! You stay!” Akaashi barked. Then he sighed. “Maybe I should call Kuroo-san,” he muttered to himself.

“You can’t let anyone knows I’m here.”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is going on here, Bokuto-san? People don’t just disappear for seven years only to pop up one day bleeding all over my kitchen tiles.”

“Keiji, I promise I’ll explain everything later. For now, calm down, okay? Take a deep breath.”

“You’re the one with the fucking bleeding arm don’t tell me to take a goddamn deep breath!” Akaashi shouted. Then he closed his eyes and breathed slowly. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Let’s clean you up first in the bathroom.”

Akaashi walked up toward Bokuto and wrapped one arm around his waist. The other man flung his right arm around Akaashi’s shoulder and Akaashi grasped it, securing Bokuto in place. Then he hoisted Bokuto up and they stumbled into the bathroom.

Once inside the bathroom, Akaashi gently placed Bokuto on the edge of the bathtub. Bokuto grimaced visibly. His face paled and sweat dampened his forehead.

“I’ll get the first aid kit. I’ll buy the rest that needed tomorrow morning, though I’m not really sure what would be needed for shot wound,” Akaashi said, his eyes not really meeting Bokuto’s as he stood up

“Akaashi,” Bokuto held Akaashi’s hand before he could leave, “I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched between them, until Akaashi turned around and left Bokuto without saying anything.


End file.
